The Prince, the Rain and a Pink Umbrella
by mocha-lover
Summary: As the rain fell heavier, Ryoma pondered on how he could get home. People do get crazy because of the rain.


**Summary: **As the rain fell heavier, Ryoma pondered on how he could get home. (People do get crazy because of the rain.)

Again, single quotation marks for thoughts and italics for emphasis.

* * *

0oxxoxxooO00O00Oooxxoxxo0

**THE PRINCE, THE RAIN AND A PINK UMBRELLA**

XxooxooxooxooxooxooxooxooxX

* * *

At first it was just a light rain shower. But in a few minutes, the sky had completely darkened and the rain poured heavier.

'Damn.'

Ryoma Echizen jogged to the nearest school building. He took off his cap and patted his hair then his clothes dry. The tips of his greenish locks, wet from the rain, looked more black than usual.

'How do I get home?'

He stared at the thick rain clouds hovering over the sky.

Under normal circumstances—with fair weather, that is—he would go home right after tennis practice and play with his usually bored perverted father. But, since it was a rainy afternoon, and neither his seniors, Eiji and Momo, invited him over to the burger joint, even he wondered why he wanted to go home that much.

Body clock—a term that even this tennis prince had not thought of. Everybody has one. Because of it our bodies subconsciously follow daily habits that we have previously set. Anyone who knows this would say Ryoma was perfectly acting normal that afternoon.

'I should've brought an umbrella.'

Should've_—a_nother word that never existed in his vocabulary. Whatever the situation may be, Ryoma was clearly someone who never regretted doing anything. In fact, he was an innocent twelve-year-old boy who only dreamed of beating his father in tennis.

"Oi!" Ryoma heard a certain boy call out from a distance, "wait for me!" The boy ran towards his friend who was walking ahead with an _umbrella_.

An idea suddenly popped in his head. His lips _almost_ formed a smile. If he really wanted to go home right away, then all he had to do was to wait for someone to share an umbrella with.

A few minutes passed, one girl came. But he didn't call out to her. Her umbrella was too small for two people.

'If I shared with her,' he thought, 'we'd both get wet anyway.'

With that in mind, Ryoma waited for another person who necessarily had a bigger umbrella.

A good five minutes came, but no one passed by. No one with a _bigger_ umbrella, that is.

'What was I thinking?'

A sudden realization. Ryoma finally realized it wasn't like him to be thinking that way. Sharing an umbrella with a complete stranger, not to mention a girl, was not even possible for him. Firstly, he had a pride bigger than anyone else's and more complicated than anyone could imagine. As much as possible, he never wanted to seek help from others. Secondly, he hated unnecessary socializing—which included talking—especially with strangers.

Crossing out the idea of sharing someone's umbrella, he pondered on what the_ normal _Ryoma Echizen would do and came up with three choices:

A. sleep peacefully until the rain stops

B. practice forehand and backhand swings using the wall until the rain dies down

C. run under the heavy rain then take a hot bath once at home

Knowing his choices and still feeling an urge to go home pronto, he chose choice C.

Even for him whose favorite hobby next to tennis is sleeping, choice A was impossible since he wouldn't be able to sleep given the heavy downpour anyway.

Choice B was also crossed out. He just came from an exhausting afternoon tennis practice. It's not that he got tired from playing tennis but he got exhausted from running a hundred laps—a punishment he didn't even deserve. It was his Momo-senpai horsing around during tennis practice and _not_ him.

A deep breath.

'Yosh!'

Err—another thing he would never actually say out loud.

As he was about to step into the rain, he heard someone call out his name.

"Ryoma-kun!"

It was a familiar voice. And it gave him quite an unexplainable sugary feeling. Without saying a word, he turned to where the voice came from.

A pigtailed girl.

'What's her name?'

The coach's granddaughter.

'Ryuzaki.'

Sakuno Ryuzaki—a name that he never intended to remember but had always found at the tip of his tongue. And there she was, appearing from the hallway. Unknown to him, Sakuno also has her own body clock. If only he had paid attention to other things aside from tennis, he would have known that this timid pigtailed coach's granddaughterhas always waited for him to finish tennis practice and has managed to walk home with him most of the time.

Shifting his tennis bag from his right shoulder to his left, Ryoma waited for what she had to say.

"Anou, I-is it okay to go," she stammered like she always did, "without an umbrella?"

"Well," he started in his usual cocky tone, "is one necessary?" He felt an urge to clear his throat as what he just said completely opposed what he had been thinking of a few minutes ago.

He looked at her in the eye as she was taking too long to respond.

As their eyes met for a second, Sakuno felt a sudden burning sensation spread across her face.

"Of course!" she answered right away as she looked down and quickly opened her umbrella to cover her tomato-red face.

A triumphant grin crept to Ryoma's stoic face.

Sakuno's umbrella was big enough for two people. But it was pink—his eyebrows twitched—a light shade of pink.

**END**

* * *

**Mocha-lover: **Voi! Another one-shot done. It's quite a short one, ne? I hope you enjoyed reading this. It's actually a random stuff that sprouted from a random word—body clock. Haha. I think this is _so bad_ but I still posted it anyway. So, please review and tell me what you think. Corrections (grammar, spelling, etc.) and flames are welcome! Ja! Ü

**Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis.**


End file.
